In Extremis
by ToryTigress92
Summary: An AU from Chapter 17 of LbtD onwards. Rather than endanger Jane by taking her to Asgard, Loki returns alone after their one night together, to face the consequences of his actions. On Earth, Jane is now endangered by forces seeking to use her and the new life Loki left her with.


In Extremis

Warnings: Violence, a few instances of profanity and other dark themes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_**A/N: **_**So this idea basically came from watching Iron Man 3 and the Extremis arc. This is also an AU oneshot, of an idea that came into my head when watching Iron Man 3, of Loki and Jane together, with Jane's skin lit up by Extremis and Loki's Jotunn form, and I wasn't sure how to start it since it was basically established relationship, then I thought it'd do well as an AU oneshot of 'Lost Before the Dawn', from about chapter 17. I also wanted to try writing a Lokane from another POV other than that of Loki and Jane.**

* * *

I don't have any memory of my parents. Either of them.

It never bothered me before, my _**life**_, if that's what you could call it, didn't really allow for much reflective introspection. But for some reason, today of all days, I'd started thinking about them.

I was lying on my bed, idly flicking through a copy of Nietzsche's works, when the thought popped into my head. Why didn't I have any memory of my parents?

Objectively I knew my mother had abandoned me at birth. She'd been nothing more than a surrogate for the scientists' experiments, and they'd told me she wanted nothing more than her pay cheque after the birth.

But I believed that about as much as I believed that Hitler was a messiah and Johann Schmidt was a deity. Seriously, that's all I've ever been taught since I was old enough to understand spoken language. Hitler was right, Johann Schmidt was a visionary, blah, blah, blah, only those of superior blood should be allowed to live, yada, yada, yada.

As for my father…it was him I was most curious about. I knew almost nothing about him, except what I had guessed over the years. I had once been given a picture of my mother by a sympathetic member of the medical team, grainy and dark, and I knew I hadn't inherited my black hair and abnormally pale skin from her. I didn't know what colour her eyes were, but somehow I guessed I'd at least inherited them from her. As for the rest…even with the limited amount of information on genetics that I was allowed to access, I knew that the more….mystical elements of my DNA did not come from her or the scientists' tinkering while I was an embryo.

Speaking of which…

The first spasms began to contort my muscles and I lunged for the syringe on the bed side table. One little side-effect of said scientists' tinkering was the agonising muscle spasms that would continue until I reached physical maturity. I guess genetic engineering and growth acceleration aren't all they're cracked up to be.

The pain of the syringe was nothing compared to the pain of the cramps, and I was so used to it, I barely noticed it now. That was my life, pain, hence very few opportunities for introspection.

As the pain lessened, I sat up from my bed, leaving the crumpled book behind me on the wrinkled covers of my bed. My room was plain and simple; just a small, narrow bed, a desk, chairs, chest of drawers and my own bathroom, the walls painted a sterile white. The only decoration I was allowed was a banner depicting the symbol of a death's head with octopus' tentacles. For a secret organisation called HYDRA, I'd always thought it was a weird choice of symbol. Weren't hydras big, scaly monsters with multiple heads? I wondered if their graphics department was just short-sighted or not too well read on Greek mythology, or both.

Slowly, testing out the strength of my muscles, I walked to the mirror in my bathroom. It was always my little ritual after the muscle spasms came, to see if I could find any discernable difference in my appearance. A gain in height, a change in the shape of my cheekbones, anything at all. Sometimes, I found nothing; others I barely recognised myself.

This time, it was one of those latter times. My appearance was barely altered at all, my height the same as always: 5'4, my body devoid of anything but muscle, bone and skin. But then, the scientists and the officers wouldn't want their favourite pet to be anything other than what I'd always been trained to be: a weapon.

I'd been trained in combat, both armed and unarmed, and educated in topics such as history, politics, economics, mathematics, military strategy, sociology, psychology and languages, all heavily edited of course. Despite all their attempts to brainwash me into becoming their perfect little killing machine, I'd seen through their jargon but hidden my resistance. I just nodded along and muttered "Hail HYDRA!" through false smiles. The thing with genetically engineering someone to be physically and intellectually superior, they don't take a lot of bullshit. I just wasn't stupid enough to let anyone see that until I was ready to make my own move.

My life was one of survival and pain and endless waiting. I didn't care about HYDRA, or the planet, or the millions of people HYDRA wanted to enslave 'for their own good'. I just wanted to be free.

And I would be, one day.

But today, I looked into the mirror, at my reflection and thought about my parents. I saw a young girl of approximately seventeen years old, with long dark hair restrained into a braided side ponytail. My skin was pale, almost unbelievably so, but it had a sheen of dark, icy blue about it that I rather liked. My eyes were dark brown that sometimes managed to look almost amber in some light. I looked ordinary, normal.

Except I wasn't. HYDRA had seen to that.

I raised my hand, pressing it to the mirror's surface. It didn't feel cool to me, it actually felt quite warm, and my touch sent a rippling cascade of icy tendrils across the reflective panes.

"Hela?" a familiar voice called my name, as I sighed but did not move. Eric, the closest thing to a friend I possessed in this place, my own personal bodyguard. He was as loyal as they came, but flexible enough to allow me a little freedom from HYDRA's rules. I'd lived by them my entire life, and I wanted out, but not even Eric would help me with that. I heard his exasperated sigh behind me before he spoke again. "You shouldn't do that, Hela. You know how annoyed they get when you shatter your mirror."

I ignored him, letting the ice spread across the glass until it shattered with a tinkling clash onto the tiles below my feet. "Do they?" I asked obnoxiously, eying the distorted remnants of my reflection in the glass shards at my feet. Once again, I thought of my parents. Who were they? Why did they give me up to HYDRA? Why could I do the things I do, like the mirror? Did I have my mother's eyes and my father's hair? My powers?

"Hela?" Eric stepped into view, his face hovering above mine in the glass shards, his handsome face framed by blonde hair and beard drawn into a concerned frown. "What is wrong?"

Another thing I felt uneasy about. My name, Hela. Norse mythology was the one subject in my curriculum that hadn't been heavily edited by my tutors. Hela, the Norse Goddess of Helheim, Queen of the dead and the half-corpse, half-girl child of Loki and the sorceress Angrboda. I didn't like it; I didn't want anything to do with the destiny it foretold for me, that HYDRA had planned for me. It, more than anything, was why I wanted to be free.

"Nothing," I replied, tonelessly. I didn't want Eric running off to his superiors, telling tales. Eric was loyal to me, but he was more loyal to HYDRA. He saw me as some kind of messiah, a weapon to change the world into a new paradise of control and fear. The sad thing was he genuinely believed it would be a better world with HYDRA in charge. I didn't care particularly; I just didn't want any part in it. A world with HYDRA was one where I could find some semblance of freedom, as far as I was concerned.

"Come on then," Eric stepped back into my bedroom. "You're wanted in Medical, then in the training rooms. We have a very important visitor today who wants to see your progress."

As I laced up my boots, I looked up at him and asked, "Who?"

But despite all my attempts, he wouldn't tell me anything more.

* * *

I hated Medical more than anywhere else in the compound. I'd never been allowed outside it and there were no windows, just lots of artificial lighting. The overhead strip lighting seared my retinas as I lay back on the examination table under the hands of the doctors and let them draw my blood, measure my growth, test my reflexes and all the other tests they wanted to do. Behind all the lab equipment, I could see a pane of black glass. A one-way mirror.

So my mysterious visitor was watching in, huh?

I was tempted to smile and wave cheerily, but my wrist was currently being prodded with a needle. Quashing the impulse, I caught Eric's eye as he waited beside the door, patient and blank-faced. He shook his head slightly at me warningly, and I frowned at the ceiling.

Why was he warning me?

At last the doctors were done, and I hopped down from the table. Eric led me without a word into the corridor and down to the training rooms. I heard a door open behind us, and I went to look back. Eric's hand locked around my elbow and forced me onwards before I could glimpse whoever was following us. I glanced up at his face and saw it stony, even more blank than usual, and my unease grew. I didn't dare ask what was wrong, but I sensed it.

The training room was a massive bunker of cold concrete walls, a handful of dojo mats, shelves of weapons, punch bags hanging from the ceilings and a shooting range down one end. I've spent more hours than I could recall down here, learning to fight, learning to kill, learning to function even through the pain of my muscle spasms.

Somehow, today was going to be different, I could sense it. A shiver grew at the top of my spine but I suppressed it. It wouldn't be smart to show weakness, I didn't know who was watching.

The room was dark except for the lights above the mat, and I kicked off my boots as usual. Eric released my arm, and I stepped forward into the light.

A sibilant, feminine voice coiled through the darkness. "You may begin."

My senses picked up a figure emerging from the darkness, dressed in the usual HYDRA uniform. He was taller than me, about 5'11, with black hair streaked with silver. His blue eyes were cold and dead, the same look I'd seen in a few of the more elite fighters I'd trained with in my life.

Ah, one of the brainwashed ones then.

I quashed any feelings of pity or contempt for his situation, concentrating on what was, no doubt, my opponent. I didn't know his capabilities or his weaknesses. I just needed to be smart and wait for my opportunity.

So this was why Eric was so stern? Why he warned me in the lab? Was this some kind of final test? Do or die?

My mind raced at a million miles an hour, as I settled into a combat stance and waited for my opponent to make his first move. Our eyes met and the next moment I was on my back looking up at the ceiling, winded. How the hell…?

None of the HYDRA trainers could stand against me in a fight anymore, but this…

I jack-knifed back to my feet, spinning as I went as I looked for my opponent. I glimpsed a blur of light and colour from the corner of my eye and dodged. Nevertheless, my side burned as if struck.

It clicked into my head as he came for me again, and this time I was ready. My fist uncoiled from its position near my face, even as my other one flew out in a feint. I felt it catch something, but he was too fast, and I flew backwards as his fist collided with my stomach.

I landed on my side, coughing. Something cold splattered my fingers as I held them to my mouth, and I realised it was my blood. With a start, I remembered my power and scrambled to my feet, dodging his next attack just in time.

I managed to dodge attack after attack, before I realised…he was just playing with me. He could easily have defeated me with his superior speed but now…he was just playing. Anger and humiliation burned within me, but as I was knocked down for the tenth flipping time, I buried it deep and closed my eyes. As if by magic, everything slowed to a crawl and I could feel…_everything_. The rasp of the air conditioning, the flicker of electricity in the overhead lighting, the turgid breaths of the onlookers and of my opponent. He was somewhere in front of me, and I visualised him then, his fist swiping down for the knockout blow. Or the killing blow, maybe that was what this was. Do or die.

I felt the rush of air, the heat of his body, and reached for him.

His fist slammed down onto my palm as I curled my fingers around it, then clamped onto his arm with the other hand, letting the ice in my veins spread from my fingers and along his arm. The cold triumph in his eyes turned to confusion, then panic, then pain as the fabric of his uniform burned away to reveal the ruined, burned flesh of his arm and even that was slowly melting away. I gritted my teeth in determination as he tried to shake me off, but I simply expanded the flow of the ice, no longer burning his flesh but freezing the molecules of moisture in the air around his body, entrapping him and holding him fast. He was stuck in a prison of ice as it moved up his body and I felt a thrill of triumph and vindictive pleasure at the growing fear in his eyes.

He would do well to be afraid of me. I was cruel and I was vicious when I needed to be. Being brought up by HYDRA didn't a kind person make.

"Enough!" That voice rang out across the training room again, commandingly. "Release him!"

I was tempted not to, to keep going until my opponent was nothing but frozen flesh and blood, just to show them they did not control me but my long-term goal was more important than my defiance right now. I needed them to think I was their puppet, their slave.

I let him go.

Applause filled the air and the lights flickered on fully to reveal the crowd of people watching. Among the unfamiliar crowd of green-suited HYDRA officers and scientists, I met Eric's eyes and for the first time, saw not burning fanaticism or approval, but _fear_.

_Good_, I thought. _Let him be afraid._

Fear was better than any other emotion right now. My opponent, freed from my grip, burst through his icy bonds but instead of rage or humiliation in his dead blue eyes, I saw only blank obedience. I supposed brainwashing didn't allow for much individual thought beyond yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir.

"Take Agent Northstar to the infirmary," the owner of the feminine voice barked, and I spun to face her as she emerged from the crowd. My opponent left without a backward glance, but I focussed on the woman walking towards me.

She was dangerous. She was tall, although almost everyone in the compound was taller than me, with long black hair that obscured one side of her face. She was all corded muscle and warrior-grace, but her green eyes were like poison, radiating lethality like some kind of noisome perfume. Her teeth were bared in a parody of a grin, and her muscles bulged subtly beneath the HYDRA green of her combat suit.

"Hello, Hela," she murmured sibilantly. "My name is Madame Hydra and I have great plans for you, little one."

* * *

I'd heard rumours of Madame Hydra.

Stories, half-whispered by guards and lab technicians too terrified to talk in front of me. Ruthless, proud and driven, she bore a fiercesome reputation no less foul than the scar that ruined the right-hand side of her face.

I was in big trouble.

* * *

A few hours, I sat on my bed, staring at the opposite wall as the encounter ran on repeat inside my head. One downside of being genius-level intelligent was the inability to stop thinking, no matter how unpleasant the subject matter.

And this was as unpleasant as it got.

So the day had come. I was finally being sent out into the world, the pawn placed upon the chessboard. HYDRA's plans, or rather Madame Hydra's plans, for me were coming to fruition now I was, apparently, 'complete'. Like I was a machine, an inhuman walking, talking killing machine.

But what was I?

Once more, as I walked to my mirror, newly replaced, I thought of my parents. I'd heard of mutants, some even worked for HYDRA or were brainwashed into it, like Northstar, but I'd never heard of any mutant who could do some of the things I could do. If I wasn't entirely human, what was I? _Who am I…?_

I absentmindedly opened my mirror to the cabinet behind, reaching for my toothpaste and brush as my fingers nudged something soft. Fragile, cool and thin. Paper.

My mind immediately sharpened from its vague meanderings, as I grazed the little square of folded paper again. I'd known since I was a kid that there were cameras watching my every move, so I curled my fist around it, hiding it between my palm and the grip of the toothbrush. I completed my usual pre-sleeping routine, the note tucked into my fist, a little damp but hopefully still legible.

As I went to my bed, lying stretched out on top of the covers, my mind raced. A note? A trap?

As I rolled over, I raised the hand holding the note to eye level, and uncurled it, making sure my back was to the cameras. I unfolded it and my eyes scanned the words written in blue ink.

_If you want to be free, be ready at midnight_

My heart raced, my mind whirled. I knew that handwriting. Eric's.

I lay on my bed, my boots at the foot of it and my jacket slung across the covers, as if I was colder than usual. I'd felt the temperature of the room rise slightly, but I still pretended to be cold for my watchers, waiting, counting down the seconds until midnight. Waiting.

Whatever happened next, I would not wait anymore. Trap or truth, I would escape. I would not be Madame Hydra's pawn, or anyone's pawn. I would escape.

Suddenly the lights failed and I was plunged into darkness. Immediately I reached out for where I knew my boots and jacket were, slinging them on haphazardly. I could hear shouts and gunfire further away in the compound as I headed for the door.

Suddenly it slammed open and I recognised the figure in the hallway, dressed in HYDRA green, an assault rifle in hand. Eric.

"Hela, come on!" he called to me, and I followed silently, my mind racing ahead. The corridors were dark and empty, and the sounds of gunfire still echoed somewhere ahead of us.

As soon as I was certain we were far enough away from my room, and there was no one following us, I grabbed Eric by the neck and slammed him into the wall. My grip turned to ice and I knew it was starting to hurt him by the gasp he tried, and failed, to hold in. My grip was not burning, not yet, but it would soon turn to frostbite.

"Now I know we won't be interrupted for awhile, let's have a chat," I hissed. "Who are you, why are you doing this and who do you work for? Actually no, scrap the second question, just tell me who you are and who you work for?"

"Hela, we don't have time for this," Eric gasped. My grip only tightened. "Ok, ok. I work for your father."

I froze, although my grip didn't. "Don't take me for a fool. I have no parents," I replied harshly, surprised to hear how low and…._feral_ my voice sounded. A predator's growl. "My mother abandoned me and-"

"That's not true and you know it, so don't play the fool," Eric gasped again. "Your mother didn't abandon you, and your father has spent the last five years searching for you. I work for SHIELD, the organisation that was founded to combat HYDRA, your father has been collaborating with them for five years to find you after he learned your mother had been kidnapped while pregnant."

I was surprised Eric even had the air to say any of that considering how tight my grip was getting.

"I was inserted into HYDRA as a sleeper agent to find your mother. I've been feeding SHIELD information for a year, now the Avengers are here to break you out," Eric choked out, and I finally released his throat, but didn't let him go.

"How do I know this isn't some trap by HYDRA?" I asked coldly. "And for that matter, how do I know this SHIELD is any better than HYDRA?"

"You don't, but I'm your best chance to get out of here," Eric replied and I sighed. My choices were narrow and it would be difficult to escape from the compound without aid. I didn't even know where it was.

These 'Avengers' and SHIELD would have to do. But seriously, 'the Avengers'? Who came up with that one?

"Fine, let's go," I stepped back, letting him free.

"You're a right chip off the old block from what I've heard," he muttered, and I glared at him through the darkness.

"Whose block? My mother's or my father's?" I demanded, and I felt him stiffen, wary now. Good.

"Your father's. Loki," he replied, and I stared at him. Loki, really?

"You've got to be kidding!" I muttered.

"Well, unfortunately not so let's get going!" he snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. I jerked it away and jogged alongside him independently, my mind spinning faster than a neutron star. Loki, really? Well, go figure.

As we jogged, I tried to run through all the information I'd just been given in the past few minutes. I knew HYDRA had kept things from me but this was something else. I knew of SHIELD, again from rumours and the official propaganda I'd been fed since birth, and I instinctively knew I wanted no more to do with them than HYDRA. Speaking of birth…

So I was right. It had all been a lie about my parents. But if so, why had it taken them five years to find me? My father hadn't know about me? And oh yeah, he apparently was the Norse God of Mischief.

Okay then.

With a mental snarl, I compartmentalised it all. I'd deal with it later, when I was as far away from HYDRA as I could manage.

The gunfire was coming closer, and I could shouts and screams. It was still pitch black even to my vision and my breathing felt loud as a shout in my ears, let alone Eric's. Eric's was practically a sonic boom of a breath.

Suddenly the lights flickered on, and I started. We were heading deeper into the compound, I realised, not towards the exit. Was he betraying me? Was this a trap after all?

Eric glanced at me sideways, and then rolled his eyes. "I'm not betraying you," he muttered. "We've got one more person to secure before we rendezvous with the Avengers, that's if they don't get there first."

"Who?" I asked, even as a shiver escaped my usually iron control and slipped down my spine.

"Your mother," Eric replied as gently as he could, and it took every inch of discipline I had not to stop and freeze. Or scream or cry or something.

Huh. Guess I was more of a kid than I realised.

Adding yet another barrage of thoughts to the compartmentalisation list, I jogged on beside Eric, ignoring his sideways glances.

As I ran, I thought instead of the man beside me, the sleeper agent hiding beneath the façade of the fanatically loyal HYDRA agent. My bodyguard, trainer and nanny, and the closest thing to a friend I'd ever had. Added to the list of apparently kidnapped, nonexistent mother, a Norse God/alien for a father and all that jazz, and it was no wonder I was screwed up, and not just genetically. HYDRA didn't need to do that for me.

God, I was part _ALIEN_!

Strange, what things the mind chooses to dwell on. Guess I was just going through my rebellious adolescent phase anyway.

* * *

Eric and I jogged on through the corridors of the HYDRA compound, still meeting no guards and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Something wasn't right.

That something-not-right feeling materialised into an entire squad of HYDRA commandos around the next corner, armed to the teeth and obviously waiting for us. Damn.

I dived to the side as they turned and Eric opened fire. Three fell immediately, but then I saw Eric falter then fall to his knees, red rosebuds opening up across his torso, dripping blood. I dove for the closest commando's rifle, raising it and firing before the remaining HYDRA guards could react. The last managed to get one shot off and I felt it graze my cheek before I flipped the rifle around in my arms, swinging it like a club and bashing his skull in with the butt. I dropped the weapon and rushed to Eric's side.

He was still alive. Just.

HYDRA hadn't bothered to really teach me much about biology beyond which areas of the body were the most vulnerable, but that was all I needed now, to know that Eric was dead. Two to either shoulder, and another just above his heart. He had only minutes left, if that.

He grabbed my hand, and I restrained my usual instinct to freeze the skin off anyone who dared outside of the training rooms, and his eyes fixed on mine and I saw the fanatical gleam I'd always associated with HYDRA agents in his eyes. "Level 10," he coughed, spitting blood. Some of it landed on my jacket, but I barely noticed. "Room 11. Your mother's there."

I was still processing his words when his lungs gave their death rattle and his eyes lost their gleam, now empty and soulless. I knew I should feel something for his death, but I just felt empty. Nevertheless, I leaned over him and shut his eyes.

I stood and jogged away, only pausing to sling the straps of two rifles over my shoulders, without looking back.

As I ran, I examined the information Eric had given me before he died. Level 10 was the most restricted level in the compound. I'd never been there.

My mother was there.

I should just cut and run. I should just get out of there and let the so-called Avengers do their work and rescue my mother.

Damn it.

* * *

As I reached an intersection, I heard the sound of boots on the concrete floor and I dove for the nearest access hatch to the ventilation ducts which ran along and through each level. I just made it, shutting it as the boots came around the corner and past my position.

Slinging the rifles against my back, I turned and began to jog again, forced to bend over slightly.

I'd often used the ventilation ducts as a child to escape the doctors and tutors until they worked out my game and punished me for it. I still remembered that with a shudder of pain.

I ran for what felt like hours, but was in reality mere minutes, when I heard voices outside the access hatch of one of the ducts on Level 8.

"Not bad for an old man,"

"Oh, just leave it, Stark,"

"I'm just saying…"

I crept to the hatch and peered through the metal slats. Outside stood a man dressed in blue, white and red, and beside was a metal man. Or rather a man in a metal suit, my mind reminded me scornfully. Around them lay a pile of unconscious or dead HYDRA commandos.

"So which way now?" the one in blue asked, looking to the other expectantly. The metal man seemed to hesitate, and the blue-suited one sighed.

"What?!" the metal man demanded. "It's not my fault they found some way to block Jarvis's signal_** and **_our com signals."

"And I say you can't beat a good, old-fashioned map," the blue-suited man retorted.

I guessed there were the Avengers Eric spoke of, and decided to take my chances. I kicked in the access hatch, and stepped out into the corridor.

"If you're looking for Level 11, it's that way," I pointed, ignoring the defensive stances of the two men. They eyed me in shock, and I sighed.

"Thanks, kid," the metal man started. "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm that's-none-of-your-business," I replied, already turning away and walking off down the corridor.

"Hey, nice to meet you, that's-none-of-your-business," the metal man replied.

"Apparently you know my dad," I added, as the one in blue caught up with me, and I could feel their stares.

"Oh yeah, she's Loki's kid alright," the metal man quipped. "Well, I'm Tony, Tony Stark, aka Iron Man and this is Steve Rogers, Captain America."

"Nice to meet you, miss," the one in blue nodded to me as we jogged along, and I rolled my eyes but nodded back.

Introductions aside, we made good progress. I guessed the Avengers had made short work of the guards because we encountered barely any as we ran through the levels. I wondered where Northstar and Madame Hydra were. Had they escaped? Would they give me up so easily?

I didn't know, but somehow I doubted it.

* * *

Finally we reached Level 11 to find it already a smoking mess of bodies and fires. "Damn," Stark muttered. "Remind me never to piss Nat off."

There were marks along the walls that looked like lightning had scorched them, and I stared. What weapons did the Avengers possess? And more importantly, could I get away from them once we were safe?

We ran to Room 10 to find the doorway gaping as if smashed apart, and entered.

And stopped dead.

There, in a hospital bed, covered only by a sheet, was who I could only believe was my mother. Her brown hair was lank on the pillow and her skin, preternaturally pale, was drenched in sweat. I could feel heat emanating off of her like a thermonuclear furnace. An IV line was inserted in one arm, and despite her appearance, she was sleeping peacefully. Or in a coma.

But beside her stood…four people, but I only truly saw one. Tall, pale and dark, in green and black leather garments stood the man that could only be my father.

I stared at him, and he stared at me, surprised by our abrupt entrance. Shock turned to comprehension in those piercing green eyes, and his hand spasmed at his side. I looked into those eyes and all my doubts fled. I looked into those eyes and saw myself not just reflected back but inside him as well. He truly was my father.

"Loki…?" the man stood beside him, tall and imposing in a red cloak and impressive looking armour, wielding a Freudian sized hammer, asked with wonder and a question in his voice.

"Hi," I said, as boldly as I could with my heart in my mouth and my brain slowed to a snail's pace. "I guess I'm your daughter."

"Yep. Definitely Loki's kid," Stark muttered behind me, but I ignored him. My gaze drifted to my comatose…_**mother**_ in the hospital bed, and then back to my…_**father**_, and this time I couldn't look away.

Well, wasn't this a happy family reunion?

* * *

_To be continued…_


End file.
